Harry Potter and the Suspicious Serenity
by Jarizok
Summary: Running from the trap in the Hall of Prophecies, Harry, Neville and Hermione get blasted 2 years into the past. They soon find out that things aren't quite the way they are supposed to be.
1. Prologue

**AN:** Don't let this chapter scare you. This is the only planned chapter from an OC's PoV.

 **Disclaimer:** None of the words are mine. I just put them in this particular order.

 **Prologue**

Maia Andrews was not in a good mood.

This is noteworthy because it is exceedingly rare to see anything but satisfied smiles on the faces of the patronage of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Even rarer still to see it on such a beautiful day in the run-up to the summer Solstice.

Yet there she sat, glumly watching her ice cream turn into brightly colored sludge with sprinkles.

"Oh come on May, it can't be that bad. Unspeakables are basically the wizard MIA! You're Andrews, May Andrews." Nymphadora Tonks said, gesturing wildly and almost knocking her ice cream bowl to the ground in the process.

"I'm starting to wish I were MIA. That'd mean I'd have actually seen some A." Maia sulked, taking it all in stride. "I've been working there for almost a year now, and the most exciting thing to have happened is that I escorted Dumbledore to the head's office. And he didn't even need my help!"

"I'm sure you're exaggerating. I can only imagine the kinds of magic you must see on a daily basis."

Maia shrugged. "Sure, the magic is interesting, but it's also been mostly theoretical. And I can't talk about it with you or Trent. I'm left sitting there listening to all of your adventures and his feel good stories, and I feel so boring. It'd be different if something actually happened, even if I couldn't talk about it."

"Well… I'm sure it'll all start happening soon. There's no such thing as a boring Hufflepuff!" The metamorph said, cycling her hair through a myriad of colours for emphasis before settling on her preferred hot pink.

The brunette managed a smile for their old motto as she got up. "I hope you're right. I have to go in now, but I'll see you Tuesday?"

"I'll try to make it" Tonks said, "but you know how crazy selection's been, May. There's really no telling when I'll get called in."

"It's your own fault for trying to impress Moody. I told you Kingsley was the best choice for mentor."

"At least he's not boring!" Tonks called after her as she slid the speckled sludge over to her side of the table.

Maia turned around, stuck out her tongue, and apparated away.

* * *

The Department of Mysteries really lived up to its name.

Maia still felt like she'd barely scratched the surface of what went on there, although she'd at least gotten much better at navigating it.

"Right on time." Her boss said as she walked into the office.

She smiled at him, even as she winced internally. That joke had gotten old not even a week into her time with him.

"We got Fourteen back from the DMAC this morning, so we're almost at full strength again. I saved it for you."

"Thanks!" Maia called over her shoulder, her smile turning genuine.

'I may not be happy with my job, but Jim really is a sweetie', she thought to herself. He'd only recently gotten his promotion to Senior Researcher of Time Magic after working in the department for almost seventy years. She suspected it was because he was just too nice. Unsurprisingly, almost half the Unspeakables she knew were Slytherins. Advancement within the department seemed to come natural to them, whereas it was just a pleasant surprise to the archetypical Ravenclaw when it had been announced to him.

Maia got to her station and threw her robe over the back of her chair. Within the DoM, you could wear whatever the hell you want as long as you're quiet about it, and she took full advantage. It really was a shame employees of the ministry were required to wear robes in the atrium and really pretty much everywhere but the DoM. She'd bought a nice summery yellow dress with a sweetheart neckline last week, and she couldn't even show off in it!

Bringing the time turner over, she got to work.

Maia hummed quietly as she settled in to the familiar routine. She found there was a relaxing rhythm to the ritual of crystal clearing, glass cleaning and sand-spelling.

Not to mention the effect the loose sand has on the psyche of course. Time passes in a gentle haze when one works with time sand.

* * *

It was evening when Maia finished up with Fourteen. She took a moment to appreciate the elegance of the decorations on the casing before getting up from her desk. All of the time turners at the DoM were pretty, but looking at Fourteen's soft golden shell Maia couldn't help but think it was the most beautiful of all.

There were no enchanted windows down in the DoM, but working with time magic as much as she did had resulted in Maia always being able to tell the time of day with uncanny precision.

'It's not all bad here', she thought to herself as she got up, twirling the finely wrought chain Fourteen had been on.

She brought the time turner over to Jiminy's bench for the mandatory check.

She hadn't made a mistake in over four months now, but following protocol is what you do when you work with 'Magics Most Arcane', the official designation of the group of magics that includes dimensional magic, blood and sex magic and even soul magic.

"She's done Jim, good as new." Maia said, tapping Jiminy on the shoulder to get his attention.

Going deaf can easily be fixed by magic, but Jiminy maintained that havings sounds in the office be no more than background noise helped him concentrate. ("Besides, this ensures you'll have my full attention when you talk to me!")

"Let's have a look then."

Maia read the scribbles Jim had made today while she waited, but it didn't look like there'd been any progress. Not that she expected any. They'd been working on it for half a year and they still weren't any closer to future-travel.

She was starting to think it might not be possible at all, but projects like this one were dropped and picked back up again for ages before such a conclusion could be reached, if ever.

"Perfect." Jiminy said, handing her the time turner again. "Tuck her back in for me will you?"

"Of course." Maia smiled. "When's mysterious Number Seven coming back by the way? It'd be nice to see all of them together before we need to send them off into the world again."

"I'll be picking her up myself end of the month. It'll be good to catch up with Minerva."

"McGonagall?" Maia asked, perking up. The description of Seven's current whereabouts in the log was rather vague, which was unlike Jiminy. Unlike all of the DoM really.

"It was a personal favor. Don't you worry about it." Jiminy said, patting her on the shoulder and shoving her in the direction of the storage room.

Maia entered the storage room, but she hadn't taken three steps before apparition vertigo overtook her, but on a scale completely uncomparable to anything she'd experienced before. She wanted to vomit in the vain hope that would offer any release, but she was frozen in place, seeing double, triple, mirrored, in the span of a decade.

The feeling receded as fast as it had come on, and Maia stumbled into the trestle table. That was the least of her worries though.

The room, devoid of people before, now contained five others.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN:** The text in cursive was taken directly from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Great book. You should read it.

 **Disclaimer:** I own a crappy laptop and a 3DS. Not the rights to Harry Potter though.

 **Chapter 1**

 _A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backward into a grandfather clock and knocked it over. The second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry's spell and now pointed his own wand at Hermione, who had crawled out from under the desk to get a better aim._

 _"Avada —"_

 _Harry launched himself across the floor and grabbed the Death Eater around the knees, causing him to topple and his aim to go awry._

The Death Eater's startled shout sure didn't sound like Kedavra anymore, which may explain why instead of a green flash, an orange spell looped through the room before exploding into a cabinet.

Pieces of wood, glass and sand pelted the occupants of the room, and a crystal globe toppled down from the top of the cabinet.

The moment the globe hit the floor, everything stopped.

And then it rewound. Very slowly.

No matter how hard Harry tried to stop moving, his body just kept right on doing the reverse of what he'd been doing when the globe landed, which was wrestling a Death Eater twice his size.

And then it got worse as he was lifted into the air, floating back towards his spot under the table with his hands still wrapped around the legs of the Death Eater.

The slow motion floating was one of the weirdest feelings Harry had ever experienced.

He could still feel gravity pulling him down, and yet he he was moving away from the floor, without upward momentum. It still felt like he was flying at the Death Eater, and the ground. He couldn't focus his eyes anywhere but where they were, and yet he could think at normal speed.

The disconnect between his body and mind was terrifying. Even those few moments when he'd given in to Crouch's imperius, his mind had at least been trying to justify the movements he was making.

This was different.

He was inexorably being pulled into the past, and there was nothing he could do about it, no one he could fight. It was a new sort of helplessness to Harry.

And then the globe reached the top of the cabinet.

A rushing sound started to pick up, but Harry didn't pay it any attention. He jumped away from the Death Eater the moment he regained control of his body.

"Expelliarmus!"

But before Neville could even begin to reach for the wand flying at him, the rushing sound reached a crescendo.

A flash was the last thing Harry saw.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed when he came to was that he couldn't move. Again. This time though, it was the familiar feeling of a bodybind spell.

He seemed to be stood up against a wooden wall at an angle. He tried to speak, to ask Hermione and Neville if they were okay, but the bodybind was so strong that he could barely breath, nevermind talk.

His eyes were closed, but at least he could still hear what was going on around him.

"Has this ever happened before? Do you know these people? How do you think they got here?"

Harry couldn't place the high pitched voice that was so excitedly asking rapidfire questions. This was odd, considering that he knew most of Voldemort's inner circle. The chipper tone of the man not answering the questions wasn't familiar either.

He was just starting to allow himself to hope that they hadn't been captured by Death Eaters when he heard a door open, cutting off the flow of questions abruptly.

"Unspeakable Andrews saw these people appear in the storage room not ten minutes ago sir." The chipper voice said.

Harry felt relief flood his body. Getting caught in the middle of the Department of Mysteries at night was definitely not good, but the ministry catching them had to be better than Voldemort catching them.

"Appear? Could you elaborate please, Andrews?" Replied a third voice.

Probably the person that had just entered, Harry reasoned.

"I just entered storage to put time turner 14 back in the cabinet, sir." The first voice, which apparently belonged to an Unspeakable Andrews, answered.

"I'd barely stepped into the room when I was taken by this feeling… It was like being side-alonged, only a thousand times worse, and I saw double and mirrored and all of it in slow motion somehow. It felt like it took ages to pass, but it can't have been more than a couple of seconds. Then everything snapped back and there were these five people unconscious on the floor. I stunned them all just in case and called Unspeakable Bode immediately."

Andrews report was professional, but she reminded him of Ron talking about a Hogwarts feast on the way back to Gryffindor tower somehow. ('That Turkey was so good! I couldn't get enough, but the mash with that gravy and the sausages was just too good to pass up. And the desserts of course, I couldn't eat too much and not have dessert. What was your favorite? I liked the pommiegrenade ice cream best I think, whatever a pommiegrenade is, but…')

The silence stretched uncomfortably until the third person finally spoke again.

"I can only think of one explanation. I should have known my term wasn't going to end without any incidents. Lock down the department, noone gets in except for Unspeakable Lockheart and myself, and obviously no one gets out. I'll go get him, because I doubt he'd respond to a summons if I were to send for him."

Two "Yes, sir"s were followed by the sound of the door opening and closing again.

* * *

Andrews and the second voice took turns staying in the room. Harry deduced this from the humming that was there sometimes, then gone after the sound of doors opening and closing, then back again.

It can't have been more than half an hour, although it felt longer, when Harry heard the third voice seemingly approaching the room again.

"Now Alistair, I know you've waited a long time for this, but things have changed since the last time. I've read the transcripts, and that behaviour is frankly unacceptable now."

"Of course it is Croaker. Who do you think wrote The Protocol? Last time was a mess, and I spent all my time here making sure the next time wouldn't be. I'll handle this if it's true."

"I can't think of anything else it could be." Croaker replied.

Someone huffed from the direction of the doorway.

"So you lot are supposedly Travellers, eh?"

"They can't hear you sir, they're still stunned." Came Andrews' voice from the direction of the doorway.

"Ha! That's what we thought last time. I've since theorised that it's likely their system was saturated with magic from the jump. It's a good thing we have body boards now."

"Would you like to do the honours, Alistair?" Croaker asked.

"You bet your wrinkly behind I'd like to, as you well know!" This was followed by a mumbled spell, or at least Harry thought he heard what sounded like Wingardium Leviosa.

"It was the globe! One moment we were running from those men over there, they're Death Eaters, and the next the globe shattered and-"

"Well then." Croaker said. "You picked a good one Alistair. I assume you know what globe she's speaking of, Unspeakable Bode?"

"Of course. It's part of a long abandoned temporal research project. This was before time travel was limited to six hours by the ICW. They were trying to go back by years instead of hours. The project was dropped after an Unspeakable went missing. They thought he might have succeeded and were planning to pick it up again when he returned. He never did, and the globe was later determined to be malfunctional. The only reason it's here is because I thought it might help us with the future travel project because of our new understanding of Bristle Theory."

"Thank you Jim." Croaker said. "It seems likely then, that the globe works. I thought I recognized that boy over there, but he seems a couple of years too old."

"Nobody move! I'll get The Protocol and we'll do this right!" Alistair yelled. This was followed by the sound of rapidly shuffling footsteps and the door banging against the wall.

"The girl said those two were Death Eaters! What are we going to do about them?" Andrews asked.

"Well, it is more natural for dark wizards to Travel, after all. They're much more likely to be running around the Department at night. Last time wasn't pleasant in the least from what I read. I'm much more interested in what three children were doing here running from Death Eaters of all things." Croaker replied.

"If they're from the future, does that mean we'll have Death Eaters showing up here in the future too?"

Croaker replied, but Harry wasn't listening anymore.

There was a ringing in his ears as he put the pieces together, as Hermione had obviously already done earlier.

They had travelled to the past. Years into the past, if the Unspeakables were correct.

How could this have happened? What about Ron and Ginny and Luna? They had to get back!

But if they were years in the past, did that mean Cedric was still alive? Could they save Cedric and then go back? Stop Voldemort from being reborn at all? Why would they have ever gone to the Hall of Prophecies if Voldemort hadn't been reborn though?

It doesn't make sense!

 **AN:** I won't be able to keep this posting rate up. Obviously. Sorry to disappoint.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN:** Okay, so maybe I lied a bit when I said the OCs would soon be no more than backdrop. But it'll soon be all about Harry and co, for real this time.

This chapter came out a lot more info-dumpy than I'd like, but I think it's necessary for the story, so I'm posting it anyway. I hope you'll still enjoy it. I tried to make it as fun as it could be, obviously.

 **Chapter 2**

"I found it! Some plonker moved it to a damp corner of the archives. Where do you find these people Croaker? The new generation can't even separate important documents from visitor logs." Alistair puffed as he reentered the room, sweating like he'd run a marathon.

The Unspeakables had somehow weakened the bodybind to allow Harry to open his eyes and look around. He still couldn't speak, but that was because of the silencing spell the tall Unspeakable cast on him.

"Our apologies, but we have to be careful." He said as he moved on to the Death Eaters. Harry recognized his voice as 'Croaker'. "Disasters have happened in the past because of information from the future becoming known to non-travellers. Alistair will explain momentarily."

Croaker looked to be near a 100 years old, but he moved like a man in his forties. He had a grey goatee, yet Harry couldn't spot a white hair anywhere in his neat black comb over.

The same could be said of Alistair, but that's where the similarities ended. Harry had thought Griselda Marchbanks must surely be the oldest person alive when he'd found out she'd taken even Dumbledore's OWL exam, but Alistair had to rival her in age. He was bald and clean shaven, but so wrinkly you could almost mistake the flaps in his neck for a beard. He may have been average sized once, but he was barely taller than a house elf now with how stooped he held himself.

"Are you okay, Unspeakable Lockheart? I'm sure we have a cane here somewhere to help you stand, or I could get a chair for you if you'd like." Andrews said.

The contrast between her and the other Unspeakables couldn't be bigger. Whereas they had the wise (or crazed, Harry thought) old wizard look down pat, he wouldn't have given her a second look if he'd come across her in Little Whinging. She wore an obviously muggle dress and sandals, and the only thing wizardly about her was the wand she nervously twirled in her left hand.

The fourth Unspeakable ('Bode?'), stood quietly to the side of the room, looking perfectly average. For a wizard that is. His most distinguishing feature was the fact that he wore bronze-rimmed glasses.

"Canes are for old people." Alistair said high-handedly. "A chair would be appreciated though. And get some for the Travellers too while you're at it."

Andrews swished her wand in the direction of the door, and nine chairs soon floated into the room.

"That's too many chairs." The old man grumbled. "This gathering will soon be classified. You and Unspeakable Bode can leave now."

Bode frowned, but started making his making way towards the door. Andrews stood gaping at Alistair, her eyes growing bigger by the second.

"What!? You can't do that!" she sputtered. "I found them! Something exciting finally happens around here and you send me away? Aren't we here for exactly this sort of thing? We're the only ones who ever even use the temporal storage room!"

"I'd already been working here for decades before your grandfather was even born, girl! This is serious business, not for a silly girl still wet behind the ears."

'Maybe more like Ginny than Ron.' Harry thought, as he adjusted his mental image of the woman due to the fierce way she argued her case.

Andrews was clearly trying to come up with a reason why she should be allowed to stay, her eyes frantically casting around for something she could use.

"Come on May." Bode said, gently turning her towards the door and pushing her in that direction

Andrews half turned a couple of times as she was herded out of the room, seemingly mentally preparing and discarding her arguments. As they reached the doorway, she finally whirled around completely and exclaimed "You're old!"

"Excuse me!?" Alistair sputtered.

"You're unlikely to be around if more Travellers come to us in the future." Andrews explained sheepishly, turning pink, but undeterred. "I on the other hand, have only just started at the Department and will be around for the foreseeable future. Wouldn't it be good if there was someone here who had experience with Travellers if this were to happen again in the future?"

"She has a point, Alistair." Croaker inserted himself into the conversation. "You're the only one left that can still recall the last time, and I'm no spring lamb myself. She already knows they're here, and an extra pair of hands to handle this situation couldn't hurt. I'm usually quite the busy person you know."

Alistair grumbled some, a mulish set to his jaw. He seemed unwilling to change his mind, and the silence stretched for an uncomfortably long time.

Harry was starting to get impatient, and wishing they'd move him to the bloody chair already. It's not that the wood he was stood against was particularly uncomfortable, but the angle was really starting to hurt his ankles.

After what felt like minutes, Alistair finally gave in. "Ugh, fine, the girl can stay. Now hurry up and leave so I can start reading The Protocol to these Travellers." He added, waving Bode out and turning towards Harry again.

"Well then," he muttered, unrolling the parchment he'd brought with him and magicking a class of water into existence. "if you could get these people into their chairs, we can finally get down to business."

Harry mentally sighed in relief, and watched Andrews walk around to the back of the wall of wooden boards he and the others were leaning against. He felt himself un-stick from the wall, and saw Hermione and Neville start to float towards the row of chairs set in front of him before he felt himself lift up into the air as well.

To his left, he could finally see that they had removed the Death Eaters' masks, if not their hoods.

He didn't recognize the one closest to him. He had an aristocratic look, with dirty blond hair and a scar across his nose and cheek. The other one had to be related to Crabbe somehow, Harry thought. The resemblance was clear as day.

Settling in the chair somewhat clumsily, thanks to his still limited range of movement, he met Hermione's eyes. She looked just as dumbstruck as he himself felt.

Neville didn't seem to be doing any better, judging from the wide eyed stare fixed on Unspeakable Croaker.

Harry was shaken from his thoughts by Alistair gurgling his last bit of water.

Squinting at the parchment in his hand, Alistair began to recite in an officious voice.

Welcome Travellers.

You have been been temporally displaced.

The current year is 1994, the date the 18th of June.

Please nod if this date is in the past for you.

Harry nodded, and he saw Hermione do the same. Neville was still locked in a staring contest with Croaker, although he looked somewhat calmer and more speculative now.

The Crabbe belated nodded as well, but the other Death Eater only stared stonily straight ahead.

"I'll take that as a yes from all of you." Alistair said, to more nods from Hermione.

Temporal displacement can be a dangerous phenomenon, to both you and the world at large, whether you meant to travel or not.

Because of this, the Department of Mysteries has established

The Protocol

In this document, we will set forth some rules for your stay in our society. You are free to fight these rules if you feel you must, but doing so will mark you as a wanted criminal of the highest priority in all wizarding societies where the ICW holds sway.

"That's all of them by the way." Alistair added, glancing up from the parchment for a second.

Upon capture, you will be brought back to the government that holds sway over the place of your first discovery, and subjected to capital punishment.

"In your case, having appeared here in Britain, you would be taken through The Veil. It's an archway right here in the department through which we send criminals sentenced to death. It hasn't been used for near 150 years, but the law is clear on the matter." Croaker said.

Alistair glared at him for interrupting, but added "That last time also happens to be the last time we had Travellers appear in Britain, so think long and hard before deciding to go against The Protocol."

Our rules are as unrestricting as possible, but you will be bound to them on pain of death should you accept.

In accepting The Protocol, you swear to:

-Not share any information from your future with non-travellers

-Take any and all available precautions to make sure you do not inadvertently share any information from your future with non-travellers

-Not engage with any non-travellers with the intent to kill them or see them dead by any means

until you reach your present, which is to say, the moment you originally Travelled.

Please do come to us at that time, so that we may judge whether or not to offer you further assistance. You would be very welcome even if not in need of assistance, as we welcome all feedback on The Protocol from your experience.

"We'll leave you your wands in case you decide your mission here is too important to comply with the rules set forth in The Protocol. I assume you three would like to be separated from these men while you discuss your options?" Croaker said, once it became clear Alistair was done reading.

Harry nodded emphatically, his mind racing with the things he'd just heard.

"I think the interrogation rooms will do nicely for this. Unspeakable Andrews, if you could guide the children to room 4, I'll take these gentlemen to room 1."

For the third time in as many hours (or was that 2 years now? Minus 2 years?), Harry felt himself being lifted from the floor, chair and all.

Gliding through the halls of the Departments of Mysteries after Unspeakable Andrews, in single file behind Neville and Hermione, he couldn't help but imagine this was all a dream. He was actually still asleep at his place in the great hall, and he'd be woken up for real any second now, and have failed his History of Magic OWL spectacularly.

That it was this moment of all things that made him almost believe this may seem strange, but it was a scene straight out of a toddler's imagination, all of them playing airplane, and Unspeakable Andrews the pilot.

Despite everything, Harry snickered silently, suppressing the urge to make airplane noises.

 **AN:** I'll admit it, I used to roll my eyes at ANs declaring that follows and reviews and the like are the best thing since butterbeer. But it's true after all, seeing those notification mails come in is great every time, and they make me want to post new chapters. So thanks to everyone who's followed and favorited!

Is the chapter length alright for you guys? I think I'm a bit on the short side, but the breaks have felt natural so far. If people would prefer longer chapters though, it wouldn't be terribly hard to arrange.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN:** The last of the setup chapters! Now we can finally get to the good stuff.

 **Disclaimer:** Reminder that I don't own a whole lot. Definitely not Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 3**

A heavy silence permeated interrogation room number 4. Hermione's softly muttered words to herself were the only thing to occasionally disturb it.

Harry supposed they should be discussing their options, but he was still trying to wrap his head around their new reality.

In the end, it was Neville that broke the ice.

"That was my great-uncle."

Hermione literally shook herself from her thoughts as Harry looked up at Neville.

"Unspeakable Croaker I mean. We always knew he had some kind of job at the ministry, but I'd never have guessed he was the head of the Unspeakables. I've never seen him this focused."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond. The identity of the Unspeakables was the last thing on his mind right now.

Luckily, Hermione seemed glad to have anything at all to latch onto.

"I was wondering about that." She said. "When he said 'I recognise one of them' I mean. It's a weird thing to say considering _everyone_ knows Harry. But if he was talking about you that would explain it. However, that implies they didn't recognise Harry."

Harry hadn't noticed it before, but Hermione was right. The Unspeakables hadn't treated him any different than the others. Were they so used to these kinds of things happening that the Boy-Who-Lived didn't merit a second look?

Harry felt a weight settling in his stomach.

"We can go back right, Hermione? You must have done some research into time travel back in third year." Harry said.

Hermione worried her lip, eyes unfocused.

Harry took the time to look around the room they were in. There wasn't much to it. It was perfectly square and the the walls were a clinical white. A basic wooden table and four chairs were the only things in it.

"Why did she research time travel in third year?" Neville whispered to him with his eyes on Hermione.

"Oh right. She wanted to take every class, so McGonagall gave her a time turner at the start of the year." He whispered back.

"Wow."

Harry nodded.

"We actually used it to save Sirius when they caught him. And Buckbeak too, the hippogryph that attacked Malfoy."

Neville smiled sadly.

"I always wanted to be part of the adventures you three had. It's not like I imagined it."

"Yeah." Harry sighed.

* * *

"I can't think of anything." Hermione spoke up. "I've never read anything dealing with time travel of this magnitude. It's supposed to be impossible."

There was an edge to her voice that Harry had never heard before.

"Logic dictates that if we travelled here because of that globe then we might be able to use it to go back as well. But I don't know how it works, and the Unspeakables say it can't be done and they'd _know,_ right? And even if they're wrong, how am I supposed to figure it out if they can't? We haven't even started our Newts!"

Hermione's breaths came faster and faster.

Neville shared a wide eyed look with him as Hermione's breaths started taking on a whistling pitch.

"Calm down Hermione. I'm sure you'll-"

"What are you sure of Harry!? Everything we used to be sure of is gone! I don't even think-"

A loud crash cut Hermione off.

The sound of running footsteps followed. It was somehow impossible to tell if they were coming closer or not.

"Avad-aaah"

Harry jumped out of his chair and spun towards the door.

There was the sound of shouting, and wood splintering.

Then silence.

"I think Crabbe and the other one decided against The Protocol." Harry said.

Hermione giggled.

Harry turned back to Hermione. "Are you okay?"

Hermione still looked to be shaking slightly, but her breathing had calmed down.

"I'll be fine, Harry." She said with a weak smile.

More footsteps interrupted Harry's train of thought.

"We just wanted to let you know", Unspeakable Andrews' voice came through the door "that the two men that Travelled with you have been taken into custody."

She opened the door.

"They're being taken to The Veil as we speak. Have you come to a decision yet?"

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was Hermione that answered.

"Not yet."

"Take all the time you need. It's a big decision. I'll go get you guys some food."

* * *

"So," Hermione said, pushing away her plate. "to summarise our situation. We're two years in the past with no apparent way back. If we accept The Protocol, we'll be on our own. We won't have anyone to help us prevent You-know-who's return."

"Which we're going to do." Harry said stubbornly. "And save Cedric."

Hermione sighed.

"Yes Harry, we all agree. I was just trying to make our choice as clear as possible."

"Sorry."

"If we don't accept The Protocol, we'll be able to get people to help us." Hermione continued.

"That is, if we can escape the Ministerie long enough to tell them. And if they believe us, of course."

Neville spoke up. "And finally the broom thing. I still don't understand it."

Hermione nodded.

"Bristle theory, like Unspeakable Bode mentioned. Put simply, it states that there are infinite possible timelines, branching from each and every decision made by anyone anywhere. If we are indeed in a different time line, everything could be different from what we know."

"But if every choice gets it own timeline, wouldn't we be just one choice away from our own past? That can't be that different."

"Yes, but any decision has the potential to influence every other decision. Muggles call it the butterfly effect. It's quite interesting really."

"But what it means for us", Harry cut in "is that our knowledge from 'the future' may be useless?"

"Well, it's unlikely to be completely useless. But things could certainly be very different here. The fact that the ministry is still here and Unspeakables are still called Unspeakables reassures me somewhat. If the point of divergence between our timelines had been thousands of year ago, the English language might not even have existed!"

"So the longer ago the point of divergence was, the greater the differences between our time and this one?" Neville asked.

"I think so. Of course, it's still possible we're simply in our past."

Harry shook his head.

"I wouldn't count on it Hermione. It's never that easy."

"Murphy's law." She agreed.

* * *

"So we accept The Protocol." Harry said. "Do we go after Wormtail first then? What day did that all happen Hermione?"

"June 6th." She replied after a second. "But Harry, we can't just rush off. We're going to need a place to stay, a plan."

"The Unspeakables probably already have a plan." Neville said hesitantly. "I mean, they did mention they'd had Travellers before. And there's probably a list of things included in 'any and all available precautions'. I think we should ask them what they mean with that before agreeing."

"Let's do that then." Harry said, standing up. "Do we call them?"

Receiving two shrugs in return, Harry opened the door.

Alistair and Andrews were sat a ways down the hall, but looked up at the sound of the door opening.

"Finally decided to accept The Protocol, have you?" The old man said.

"We have a question, actually." Harry responded.

He stepped out into the hall and Neville and Hermione followed.

"What _are_ the available precautions?"

"Occlumency of course. You're also going to need new identities."

Harry groaned. Continuing to fail at learning occlumency was not something he was looking forward to.

Alistair glared at him.

"I see you've some familiarity with it at least. It may be hard to master, but you better be able to protect yourselves with the knowledge in those heads of yours though."

Unspeakable Croaker rounded the corner into their hallway.

"I see you've come to a decision?"

Harry checked with Hermione and Neville one more time.

Neville looked at Hermione, who nodded, before nodding at Harry as well.

"Good. Shall we go back inside?"

They all followed Croaker back into the room the had just left, which seemed to have grown. It now held 6 chairs.

"Before these two take your oaths, I need some practical information." Croaker began.

"Looking at the three of you, I assume you're of school age?"

"We would have finished fifth year at the end of the month." Hermione said a touch despondently.

"You went to Hogwarts?" At their nods, he continued.

"Would you like to enroll for your Newts next year? Or do you have different plans?"

"We, uh, hadn't really discussed it." Harry said, at the same time as Hermione said "Yes please".

Croaker smiled.

"Please take a moment to discuss it. I'll have your identities obliviated from my memory at the end of the night, so if you do decide you want to enroll, I'll need to floo some people."

"Gran would kill me if I didn't finish Hogwarts, Harry."

Croaker coughed loudly.

Giving the man a look, Neville said "I'm with Hermione on this".

"Yeah alright. It's not like we have anywhere else we can stay anyway." Harry agreed casually, missing his friends' winces.

"Okay. Do you have any preferences as to the names you'll be using? Neville and Harry are common enough, but Hermione will stand out. You'll also need new last names."

Hermione grimaced.

"My middle name is Jean."

"Very well. Are the two of you comfortable with muggle last names?" Croaker asked, looking at Harry and Hermione.

They both nodded.

"Then I have all I need. We won't meet again until you reach your Travel date. If you even decide to come back to us, that is. If we happen into each other somewhere before then, please remember that I won't recall ever meeting you here. I wish you all the best."

It looked to Harry like Neville wanted to say something, but he froze when Croaker got up.

The Unspeakable nodded at them politely, and closed the door behind him with a gentle thud.

* * *

Harry found swearing a magical oath to be completely anticlimactic.

They were told to lay their wands on the table and place their wand-hand over the middle of it.

Both Alistair and Andrews put one of their index fingers to one end of the wand, and then they were to say "I swear to uphold the rules set forth in The Protocol."

Harry didn't feel anything when it was his turn, but the Unspeakables moved on to Neville without a pause.

Hermione seemed just as nonplussed.

"That's that then." Alistair said when they were done, nodding to himself.

"You better come back once you've done your time. I want to see The Protocol achieve what it's meant to before I go."

"That's it? You're not going to help us get settled, or teach us occlumency or anything?" Hermione exclaimed.

"I know legilimency, girl. I'm a risk around the three of you. No one can help you with occlumency the traditional way, as we can't risk anyone seeing inside those heads of yours. I'm sure Andrews here has some books for you, and perhaps a safe house."

He got up and walked towards the door.

"We're the only two people that know you exist now. Should you have an emergency, and I do mean an emergency, come find one of us. When we're alone, obviously. Good luck." He said gruffly, and walked out the door.

The three of them were left staring at the open door.

They were just going to leave them like that?

"I'll just go find out what safe house you can use then. The department always has a couple on hand just in case." Andrews said, smiling at them apologetically.

"Since you'll be going to Hogwarts in September, I'll make sure it will remain available until then. I'll be just a moment, and then we can go."

And with the departure of the last Unspeakable, silence returned.

 **AN:** And so we finally see some of the dynamics of this new trio.

My chapters seem to slowly be getting larger now that there's more meat to get into. I hope to get another one out tomorrow.

Next chapter; out into the wide wide world!


	5. Chapter 4

**Happy New Year everyone! Feel free to skip my AN ramblings if you're just here for the story.**

 **I'm sorry for disappearing, but I had some struggles with this chapter. I was working towards a particular scene, but I just couldn't get there. In the end I realised the plot had evolved beyond that particular scene. It's funny because it was one of the first scenes I thought up when I first conceived this story, but such is life I guess. The good news from all of this for you guys is that the next 3 chapters are already completely plotted out. In other news, I lowered the rating of the story to T because there really isn't anything in it yet that warrants it being M rated. I won't shy away from anything so we may go back to that in the future, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.**

 **I own nothing.**

 **Chapter 4**

Colours swirled all around. It made Harry think of a bubblegum milkshake for some reason. Not only was this weird because Harry had never had one of those, nor any other kind of milkshake, it was also extremely nauseating. The sensation of a hook in his intestines trying its hardest to pull his guts out through his nose didn't improve the situation.

The portkey travel seemed to take longer than Harry remembered from two years ago. Harry wasn't sure this was actually the case, but it did make sense seeing as they were travelling farther this time. They'd been surprised to find out from their first Prophet weeks ago that the quidditch world cup would not be held in Britain. The location was still close enough that they'd decided to go anyway though, just in case Barty showed up.

The swirl of colour pulsed and seemed to expand before Harry felt his feet hit solid ground. His wobbly legs gave out under him, and from the sound of things Neville and Hermione -no, Jean- didn't fare any better. A gust of wind carried the salty smell of the sea to him as he lay on his back in the sand, which did wonders for his nausea.

The trio had spent their first two weeks in their DoM-provided safe house fully focused on Occlumency, as well as finding looks for their new identities and learning the necessary skills to keep those disguises up.

Harry had swapped out his glasses for contact lenses and now sported a blonde head of hair.

Neville had tried going ginger, but had swapped to blonde as well after Hermione called him Ron by accident once. They felt the loss of their friends and family keenly. Just changing his hair colour had been insufficient to really make Neville unrecognizable, so they'd altered his face by narrowing his cheekbones and nose slightly. It was a small change, but it made a big difference.

Hermione had only needed to straighten and blacken her hair to realise a similarly different look.

They had looked like this for weeks now, but Harry still hadn't gotten used to his friends' new looks.

Harry stood up and got his first look at Meerland, the site chosen for the world cup final this time around. It was a nominally Dutch island in the North Sea, but there weren't any building in sight except for the huge stadium in the middle of the small island. Meerland was shaped like a half moon, and they'd arrived on the northern tip of it. The stadium sat at the heart, with stands rising on 3 sides of the pitch and the sea on the remaining side.

Hermione had of course bought a book to research the place on their one and only trip to Diagon Alley. She'd since told them it was actually the capital of the Merpeople of the North Sea. It had only become part of the Magical Republic of Holland after the peace treaty between the European Merfolk and the ICW of 1692, following the declaration of extinction of Sirens in Europe. Apparently.

There were indeed a few small groups of Merpeople lazing around on the beach, but the 2 enormous tanks of water among the tents between their landing site and the stadium really drove this home. In the distance, harry could see the opposite half of the island consisted of dunes similarly covered in tents.

"Move along please." A wizard in bright orange robes lounging on a beach chair said, extending a bucket towards them. "The next portkey will arrive soon."

Neville deposited the old slipper that had served as their portkey in the bucket, and they started ambling in the direction of the stadium.

"It doesn't feel very different from England." Harry said.

"Yeah, it's a bit like our old holiday home near York." Neville agreed.

Hermione smiled. "Well, York isn't that far from here. Hogwarts is further from London than Meerland is from York."

"Still, shouldn't it be noticeable that we're not in Britain anymore? I expected other countries to be different somehow." Harry said. Neville nodded in agreement.

"Most countries are, but the Netherlands have a climate very similar to ours. If not for the difference in architecture and language, you wouldn't even be able to tell you'd left England." The now raven-haired girl said.

They continued to chat, but their attention shifted to their surroundings. Mostly, they were trying to judge people's reactions to the three of them, or one of them really. Their disguises hadn't been tested much before, as their first outing into wizarding territory had been interrupted quite thoroughly.

* * *

They'd decided to chance a trip to Flourish and Blotts to see if they could find a book to help Harry with his occlumency problem. Hermione and Neville had taken to it pretty quickly, but June had turned into July weeks ago and Harry was no better at clearing his mind than he'd been when they started. The books they'd been given described the same method as Snape had, and he was getting desperate for an alternative.

However, there wasn't a single book on occlumency on display in the entire shop. They'd moved to a corner of the shop to quietly discuss their options, Harry the one with his back towards the door. They'd just ruled out asking a clerk about occlumency books for fear of drawing attention to themselves, when a hush fell over the shop. Harry failed to notice it, sunk in thought as he was.

"So do we check if there are any book shops in Knockturn? I'll never learn occlumency with the books we have. There has to be another way to do it. It's like my brain actively resists going quiet." He whispered.

When he refocused on his friends though, it was immediately obvious they'd stopped paying attention to him. They were both looking past him wide eyed, Neville's mouth agape.

Harry turned around and immediately joined them in staring.

Neville and his grandmother had just entered Flourish and Blotts.

A different, younger Neville, that is.

The other Neville seemed content to ignore the people staring at him as he made his way over to the herbology section. Augusta Longbottom was not.

She came to a stop in the middle of the store, glaring at the staring people, and barked "What are you all looking at? Have you never seen a boy and his grandmother shopping for books before?"

Most people hurriedly resumed their browsing at that, but it failed to completely snap Harry out of the moment.

Luckily Hermione fared better, and she grabbed Harry's hand as she steered Neville, who was still staring at himself as well, into the fiction aisle.

"That was me!" Neville stated the obvious in amazement.

"And gran, she's exactly the same!" He added with a soft smile.

Hermione shushed him.

"Quiet! People can hear you."

Harry, meanwhile, noticing the aisle they were in, made his way over to the Boy-who-lived section, his mind registering that they'd not been the only ones staring.

The books were much as he remembered them, except it wasn't his name on the covers anymore.

"Guys?"

Hermione had just managed to calm Neville down a bit. When he saw what Harry was pointing at, that regained calm shattered and the blood drained from his face.

* * *

Discovering that Neville was the Boy-Who-Lived here had shaken them, but it had also made them realise they should reassess their priorities. They added finding the differences between their new reality and their old one right alongside learning occlumency. They'd already reasoned Barty might not show up for the final now that it wasn't in England, but a difference as big as Neville being the Boy-Who-Lived implied that things might have diverged a lot more from their own past than they'd previously thought.

Hermione couldn't find a difference in her favorite history books before Halloween 1981, but that day had apparently gone very differently. Apart from the fact that Voldemort had vanished after killing Neville's parents and failing to kill baby Neville, they also found an obituary for Sirius Black.

Harry hadn't been sure how to feel about that. Neville was in a similar situation, having just heard his not-parents were dead. This in turn meant Harry's parents might be alive. A mention of James Potter in an article from the prophet '83 soon confirmed this for at least his father.

In the end, they forced their feelings aside, Neville using his burgeoning occlumency skills to help with it. It wasn't _their_ parents these articles were about. It wasn't _his_ Sirius, Harry kept telling himself.

Lily Potter wasn't mentioned anywhere.

They must have read every single newspaper between 1981 and their new present to find what else had been changed by this turn of events, but they didn't have much to show for it. The only noteworthy thing they found was another obituary, this one in the Daily Prophet of May 7th 1989, for Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

"It's still weird to me that Crouch's death has caused the world cup final to be held somewhere else." Neville said as they walked through the camp site on Meerland. "The Department of International Magical Cooperation isn't even the one most involved in that decision, the Department of Magical Games and Sports is."

"That's Bagman's department though." Harry answered. "I've never been able to work out how that man managed to become head of anything. He couldn't even show a group of 5 people around at the other final, nevermind how he acted during the tournament."

Neville shrugged. "He was one of the best beaters England's ever had."

"That's not a valid reason to make the man the leader of a branch of government!" Hermione pointed out indignantly.

"I know Hermi- Jean. I'm just saying." Neville shrugged apologetically.

"Look guys." Harry interrupted, "Omnioculars. I want to get one again."

"We don't have the money for it Harry." Hermione answered. "We only have 12 galleons left after buying that occlumency book and the tickets, and no way to earn more. We have to make it last."

"Right, sorry." Harry answered, pulling his hand through his hair.

They emerged from the camping grounds onto a marketplace of sorts. Wizards and witches dressed in all colours of the rainbow were loudly hawking their wares. Harry saw the familiar Krum action figures flying above a floating red tabletop. An obviously Irish stand across from it had a group of leprechauns floating over it that would occasionally chuck leprechaun gold at the witch selling the Krums. There were stands selling accessories for other teams as well, but the final would once again be between Ireland and Bulgaria. Apart from the reds and greens seen everywhere, there was a surprising amount of orange to be found.

"Ron would love this." Harry sighed with a crooked smile.

Hermione laughed. "Orange is the national colour of the the Netherlands. It may may have made the Cannons the favorite British team of the Dutch, although I imagine they have their own league."

Neville nodded. "They do, although it's not a very good one from what I've heard."

They slowly made their way around the market, killing time and taking in all the different things for sale, as well as the variety of people browsing and selling. They'd decided against staying the night to save money, so they'd only arrived three hours before the start of the match.

When there was but an hour left until lift off, they started making their way to their seats.

"Care to place a bet boys?" A man shouted at them from a booth on the edge of the market. "You could treat the lady to a few extra drinks tonight with the winnings."

Hermione shook her head and tried to pull Harry and Neville along, but Harry froze. He turned towards the man and shouted back. "What are the odds on Krum catching the snitch?"

"Harry! You're underage, and I _just_ said we have to be careful with our money." Hermione hissed.

"Oh come on Hermione. Shit, sorry, Jean. Didn't you ever imagine how you'd become rich by using your knowledge of the future if you were to travel back in time when you were little? We know Krum will catch the snitch!" He muttered back.

"A galleon 4 sickles 4 knuts to the galleon. Krum is quite the favorite for the catch." The man from the gambling booth informed them. "If you include Bulgaria winning I can offer you 2 to 1! 4 and 6 sickles to 1 for the Irish winning snitchless."

"We don't know anything for sure Harry. The weather for one is completely different." Hermione said.

"We know Krum is the better seeker. No amount of differences will have changed that. Besides, it's almost time to go to Hogwarts and we won't need money there. We'll need more than 12 galleons for a place to stay next year anyway, so there's really no harm in going for it." Harry insisted.

Hermione turned to Neville for support.

"Don't look at me. I never even saw that match."

"But don't you think that we should be careful with the money we have?" Hermione asked.

"Sure, but Harry has a point too in that we're going to need more next summer anyway."

"Well you're no help." Hermione huffed.

"We'll only bet 10 galleons so we'll have two left should things go wrong." Harry said.

"What!? That's way too much Harry! Do you even realise how much that is in sterling?"

"Okay fine, I'll make it five." Harry compromised, neatly avoiding the question.

Harry snatched the money bag from Hermione and made his way over to the gambling booth, smiling at Neville and rolling his eyes dramatically. Out of Hermione's sight of course.

* * *

"You better hope Viktor catches the snitch Harry, or I'll make sure that it's you that gets stuck with the toughest job next year." Hermione said mock grumpily.

"Don't you have faith in him? I thought you of all people would trust him to win."

"We only ever went out the one time Harry. That doesn't make me the leader of his fanclub or anything."

"No? And what about all those letters then?" Harry smiled, dodging a halfhearted swipe from Hermione by hiding behind Neville.

"Why'd you have to literally put me in the middle of this again?" Neville asked, shaking Harry's hands loose from his shoulders.

"Sorry Nev, but you're just too good a shield." Harry said unapologetically.

They'd found their seats with about 20 minutes to go, and were now just watching the stadium fill up. The sea side of the stadium lacked stands, but the water was filled with Merpeople. This had proven to be a bit of a distraction, as they seemed to have some way of staying afloat while reclining and were quite obviously unconcerned with covering themselves with clothes or anything else.

Their seats were behind the northern hoops, and not high enough to see over them. Noone in their vicinity seemed terribly disgruntled by that though. Waves of excited chatter and the occasional shout or whistle washed over the trio, and they were swept up in the good mood.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but… Did I hear correctly that you _dated_ Viktor Krum!?" A girl from the row behind them leaned over to them. She had a heavily freckled face and looked to be about their age.

"I, uhm…" Hermione blushed.

"Oh. Mijn. God.* You totally did! How was it? Is he romantic? Where did you go? Did you-"

The blonde girl sitting next to the brunette with the rapid fire questions closed her hand over her friends' mouth.

"I'm sorry about my friend. She's very, uhm, hyper? sometimes. I'm Sanne and this is Eva." She said. "I'll admit I'm curious too though."

"The polite thing would be to ask these people for their names before interrogating them you know." The boy sitting on the other side of the excitable girl said.

"I'm Peter by the way, and this is Erik." He said, flicking his head towards the tall pale boy on his right and extending his hand towards them.

Harry exchanged looks with Neville and Hermione and then reached for the hand.

"I'm Harry."

"Neville."

"He-i. I'm Jean."

They all shook hands.

"So?" Eva asked again, bouncing in her seat and nailing Hermione in place with the intense look in her eyes.

Hermione looked to Harry and Neville for support, but Harry was just laughing silently.

"Yeah Jean, you never did go into detail about the ball." He chuckled.

"You went to a ball together!? Dat is zo romantisch!" The pitch of Eva's voice seemed to rise with every word she said, and she'd switched to her native language, so the trio didn't know what she was saying as she continued to speak ever faster.

Harry thought he could probably guess the gist of it. The girl struck his as a brown-haired Lavender.

The music was starting to fade though, and soon a sonorused voice boomed through the stadium, welcoming the crowd first in Dutch and then in English.

"The four of us are going to a party after." Peter said as everyone started to turn towards the pitch. "Would you guys like to come?"

Harry turned towards his friends in question and, upon receiving shrugs and nods, answered.

"Sure, sounds good."

* * *

The match did not go as expected.

It started with the shows the mascots put on. The Bulgarian Veela did their dancing routine again, but there were only seven of them this time. Judging by the average male in the stadium at the end of the dance, it hadn't weakened their effectiveness much. The leprechauns in turn struggled with their formation because the wind had really picked up. The rain of Galleons turned out more like a smattering of showers.

The players flew their introductory laps through the stadium, and then the game was on.

The Irish scored 3 quick goals in a row, but then the well oiled machine stocked as the Bulgarian beaters landed a bludger on one of the Irish chasers, Troy. He was able to continue playing, but he wasn't as agile anymore. All the players showed sign of struggling with the wind as well, which resulted in the tempo of the game lowering somewhat. The score was only 80 - 30 when Krum pulled off his Wronski feint again.

The crowd went just as wild as last time when they saw Aiden Lynch get up from the sand, and Harry didn't cheer any less enthusiastically for having seen it before. If anything, the experience was more exhilarating than last time, because they were in the midst of the crowd jumping to their feet this time, rather than secluded in the top box.

The match went on for almost 3 hours, with the score gap never getting out of Snitch range. The largest lead the Irish had managed towas 110 points, at just over two hours of play, and it was back to 90 when Krum and Lynch went on their sixth and final chase.

Lynch spotted the snitch first, flying just above the sand on the Bulgarian side of the pitch. He dove straight down from his spot, where he'd been circling the middle of the pitch at an altitude of about ninety feet. Krum had chosen a more random zigzag pattern and was pointed in the wrong direction because of it, but he had the advantage of being closer to the ground when he saw Lynch dive.

Krum realized that he couldn't stop and turn in time, so instead he wrenched his broom from between his legs and looped it over his shoulder. This allowed him to retain his speed, but it also meant he was hurtling through the air at 130 miles an hour hanging on to his broom with his hands only.

"He can't steer like this!" Harry shouted.

Neville winced, remembering his own broom flight when he'd hung on with just his arms.

Lynch and Krum looked to be on a collision course. Krum was set to intercept Lynch rather than catch the snitch though. The snitch had fled to the far left of the Bulgarian hoops whilst the two seekers were on course to hit each other at the foot of the left hoop.

"They're going to crash into each other!" Hermione screamed.

"Krum is going to crash into the post!" Harry shouted.

They were both wrong.

At the last second, Lynch corkscrewed out of Krum's way, having also realised that Krum was going to hit the post anyway.

Instead Krum swung his body to the right and grabbed for the post with his left arm. Catching it, he let go of his broom completely and was catapulted around the post. His firebolt crashed into the stands spectacularly, but all eyes were on the man hurtling through the air towards the sea at ridiculous speed.

And towards the snitch.

Krum had never lost sight of it and had let go of the goalpost at precisely the right time. It tried to dodge downwards out of his reach, but Viktor twisted upside down in mid air and snatched the snitch with his right hand. Then he disappeared into the waves.

The crowd collectively held its breath, but not even 5 seconds had passed before the Bulgarian seeker was carried to the surface by the merpeople, snitch held high. The stadium exploded. Even the Irish fans on the other side of the stadium were out of their seats shouting at the top of their lungs. Bulgaria had won the quidditch world cup over Ireland with a final score of 510 to 450.

* * *

"He must have dislocated his shoulder with the amount of force that kind of momentum would have exerted." Hermione said on their way out of the stadium.

"Who cares! I've never imagined a catch even half as spectacular as that one! I'd dislocate my shoulder in a heartbeat if I could win a match like that, nevermind the world cup." Harry said breathlessly.

Erik nodded solemnly, but the rest of the group seemed to not be as willing to endure bodily harm to win a quidditch match.

The group was on the southern side of the island, on their way to 'De Feesttent', as the Dutch teens called it.

"I don't know mate." Neville said. "It's one thing when your entire country is counting on you to win the world cup for the first time and it's your job. The average Hogwarts match doesn't have quite as much riding on it."

"At least you guys have a regular competition at school. We barely have any activities at all." Peter said.

"I don't mind that actually." Sanne disagreed. "I prefer it this way, being able to choose clubs or whatever I want from home. I wouldn't want to not see my family for months at a time like these guys."

"That was hard at first." Hermione agrees. "You do get used to it though. And there's always owls of course."

Sanne looked unconvinced.

"We zijn er!" Eva shouted, running on ahead and disappearing into a small orange tent with a stuffed lion prancing on top and a thumping beat emanating from it.

The rest of the group followed her inside.

The inside of the tent was about as large as the Room of Requirement was when the DA met there. An old fashioned disco ball hung suspended in mid air emitting large bubbles as well as the traditional flashes of light. There was a bar all along the back wall and some standing tables near the entrance. All the rest was dance floor, and a sizeable group of people was already taking advantage of it. Mostly the girls really. Most of the guys were standing against the walls sipping various drinks and bouncing their toes. Harry sighed in relief.

"What can I get you guys?" Erik asked.

"Beer, baco, cocktail?"

"Coke for me please." Harry said. He'd never had it before, but the fizzy drink was Uncle Vernon's favorite during the summer before he moved onto beer later in the day.

"For me as well." Hermione said.

"My parents are dentists, so it's been years since I've had some. 'That stuff'll rot your teeth right out of your mouth' my dad always said."

"Just, uhm, water for me please." Neville said.

"Jullie ook baco's?" Erik asked the girls and Peter, and, seeing their nods, moved towards the bar.

"Had you guys been to Meerland before?" Hermione asked as they moved towards the standing tables.

"No, this is a first for all of us. But that's not what we dragged you here to discuss Jean!"

* * *

Evening had given way to night, and the tent was now filled to the brim with an undulating mass of people. Harry was enjoying himself much more than he'd thought he would. He'd even tried a few dance moves he'd seen other people use.

Eva flitted back and forth between their group and others and Erik seemed to have left at some point, but Peter and Sanne had stuck around and the five of them had continued to talk and drink and dance.

"Do you think Hermione is acting a little odd?" Neville shouted in his ear as they stood out a song against the wall to rest, Harry sipping another drink.

"I dunno. I haven't noticed anything. I don't know her normal in a situation like this though. The ball was nothing like this." Harry shrugged.

They watched Hermione and Sanne dance together close by. Hermione seemed to be having a good enough time to Harry. She still looked weird with straight black hair.

"Come dance Harry!" Eva shouted as she whirled by again, grabbing Harry by the hand and pulling him in the direction of Hermione and Sanne.

"Hold my drink will you Nev?"

"Yeah, sure."

Eva seemed to be very into touching people all the time, but Harry found he didn't mind it as much now. By the third song, she'd somehow been turned around, her back pushing up against his chest in the press of people. The sensation was not at all unpleasant, but Harry found himself reacting in a rather inappropriate way.

"I have to go to the toilet." He shouted in the direction of the girls as he extricated himself from Eva. He made his way to the exit and found Neville lounging outside near the door.

"Did you see…?"

"Yeah." Neville said, avoiding his eyes.

"Are all parties like this? Is that normal?"

"I know no more than you do mate."

A not altogether uncomfortable silence ensued, or what passes for silence a couple of feet away from what Harry had decided was basically a club.

"Wasn't it sweaty though?" Neville broke the silence.

Harry giggled.

Neville laughed.

Minutes passed before Harry could look Neville in the eye and not get set off into a giggling fit again. The fresh air did help clear his head though.

"Yeah, it was sweaty. But in a good way."

Neville smiled, but then turned serious and drew Harry closer.

"It'll be morning soon. Wouldn't Crouch have shown himself by now?" He whispered.

"Yeah, probably. Last time he only showed himself after the others started making trouble though, so there's still a possibility he's here somewhere." Harry pointed out.

"It was always a longshot. Ever since we found out the final would be held here."

"It's all we have though!"

"There's always Hogwarts itself." Neville disagreed. "From what you and Hermione told me, you faced You-Know-Who twice in your first two years. If we can find hints of how events unfolded here, we can work with that."

"I guess." Harry said dejectedly. "It's going to be so weird though. Seeing everyone again but not really. You'll be going to school with yourself!"

"So will you. At least we won't share classes with us." Neville deadpanned.

The two of them stood side by side and watched the horizon slowly turn golden.

"You go fetch your winnings, I fetch Hermione?" Neville suggested when the sun had appeared in the waves.

"Sure. Meet up at the portkey site. We've got a school year to prepare for."

Neville yawned.

"And some sleep to catch up on." Harry added.

 **AN: And that's a wrap for the summer. On to Hogwarts and the good stuff! (I am fairly satisfied with this one in the end)**

 **As mentioned in the first AN, the next few chapters are completely outlined already so they shouldn't take as long to publish. Hopefully the delay on this chapter hasn't turned people away from the story. It was more than twice the size though, so that's kind of alright. Right?**

Oh. Mijn. God. = Oh. My. God. (obviously)

Dat is zo romantisch! = That's so romantic! (still pretty obvious)

De Feesttent = The Party Tent (I mean...)

We zijn er! = Here it is!

Baco = Baco (for the innocent among us, it's a mix of Bacardi (rum) and coke)

Jullie ook Baco's? = Bacos for you guys as well?

 **Thanks for reading.**


	6. Interlude: Severus 1

**AN: I'm not generally a fan of interludes myself, but I do want to show some things happening outside of Hogwarts now that the trio will be stuck there for a year. As such, I'll probably be posting short looks at various characters outside of Hogwarts every 4 or 5 chapters or so in this form.**

 **The text in cursive was taken word for word from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I do not own that book. Well I do, but not the rights to it.**

 **Interlude: Severus 1**

" _The Dark Arts," said Snape, "Are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a new head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."_

Severus paused and scanned the faces in his audience.

"I will help you start your journey to mastering this force."

Privately, he doubted any of the oafs assembled in front of him had the willpower to imperius a toddler. He'd be surprised If there was a single soul here capable of progressing beyond the simple brutality of the cruciatus.

"A greasy outsider like you, teaching us?" A large bearded teen said scathingly. "I don't know why you were even allowed inside."

Severus would have sighed if he'd been the kind of person inclined to showing their thoughts and emotions. He wasn't, but these ignorant ungrateful youths needed to witness a display of force from him if he were to ever get it through their thick skulls that they'd better listen to him.

There was never a shortage of volunteers.

Severus leveled the speaker with a glare and flicked his wand in his direction.

"Crucio."

As the screams echoed through the chapel, Severus Snape wondered if he'd ever be able to teach anyone without having to torture one of his prospective students first.

 **AN:** Like it? Dislike it? Hate interludes in general? Let me know in the form of one of those pesky reviews!

On that note, thanks to EmeraldGuardian7, Cheryl, smithback and Dul'mephistos for reviewing!


	7. Chapter 5

**AN: I probably shouldn't post this yet. But I want to.**

 **Chapter 5**

"Do you guys have everything?" Hermione asked.

"It's not like there's much we could forget." Harry answered. "All our school stuff came prepacked from the DoM and we don't own anything else."

"Thank you for the reminder Harry. Yes would have sufficed." Hermione said icily.

"Sorry." Harry muttered.

Hermione had been high strung all morning. Harry understood though. He couldn't say he was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts himself. It had been his home for five years now, but everything about it would be wrong this time. His friends wouldn't recognize him. The teachers wouldn't know him. He might not even be in Gryffindor if they had to be sorted again.

"We're all on edge. Could you guys please not fight and make it worse? I know I have the advantage here, having already met myself, but really, I'm sure you'll both be lovely." Neville deadpanned.

Harry chuckled.

"Just because your alternate self is so cool even with all of Diagon staring at him, doesn't mean my not-famous self will be too. I'm sure the only reason I have friends at all is because of this here old scar."

Hermione smiled.

"True. I've always thought it was your best feature. I don't know that my other self would want to be friends with your annoying little eleven-year-old self without it."

Harry mock glared at her but couldn't hold back his smile for long.

"Well, I guess that's it then. Bye house." Harry said.

They took one last look around the small appartment that had been their home for the summer, and then stepped out onto the streets of Fulham.

It wasn't even 9 yet, so they took their time strolling towards Parsons Green tube station.

"I wonder how everyone will react to us." Neville mused. "I mean, homeschooled kids or students from other schools coming to Hogwarts for their Newts isn't unheard of, but three at once? And from the same school?"

"I didn't even know Hogwarts accepted students after first years to be honest." Harry said.

"Don't you remember that Langston girl getting sorted in third year?" Neville asked.

"Oh that's right, you wouldn't know!" Hermione exclaimed. "You were in the infirmary because of the dementor on the train."

"Huh." Harry said.

Now that he thought about it, he had missed two of the four sortings he should have witnessed in his time at Hogwarts. Not a stellar record.

"So we'll be getting sorted then?" He asked.

"Of course we will, Harry! I thought you knew that. Why didn't you ask us sooner?" Hermione said.

"I didn't think you guys would know either to be honest. I just assumed you guys would be as new to the whole transfer thing as I am." Harry confessed.

Hermione shook her head in exasperation, but refrained from continuing the conversation as they'd reached the station. One smooth transfer at Edgware Road later, they pulled in to King's Cross and made their way to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

The Hogwarts Express looked just as resplendent as it always did, and the people and concession stands were familiar to the three of them as well. It was still fairly early, so of course the family of gingers they'd been equally hoping and dreading to see wasn't present yet.

"Should we just get a carriage then?" Hermione asked.

The boys nodded absently, focused on scanning the people on the platform for familiar faces.

There were plenty of empty carriages, so they selected one at random and levitated their trunks into one of the overhead luggage racks. Neville and Harry grabbed the window seats, so Hermione took one of her textbooks out of her trunk and settled in to read.

"It feels good to be able to use magic again." Harry said. "I hadn't even realised how uncomfortable I've been, unable to defend myself in all this weirdness should the need have arisen."

"Imagine how cross Alistair would've been with us if we'd been summoned to the ministry for underage use of magic though." Neville said.

Harry shuddered in mock horror.

They hadn't seen the unspeakables again, but they had received several owls from Unspeakable Andrews over the course of the summer. They'd even sent her one in turn to ask about alternative methods for learning occlumency. She'd given them the name of a book describing one, but also said that the DoM copies of it couldn't be taken out of the department library.

Luckily, they'd been able to find a copy of Pitfalls and Pushbacks, the Active Approach to the Defense of the Mind at a small bookshop in Knockturn Alley. The approach to occlumency described inside had fit Harry much better, and he'd improved in leaps and bounds. All three of them were now able to detect legilimency probes. Neville and Hermione could push innocent thoughts and memories to the forefront of their minds to mislead their attackers, but Harry could only counterattack head on to push the intruder out. He'd accidentally pushed into Neville's mind twice with the force of his counterattack, which had resulted in a very awkward night once.

The platform was starting to become more crowded as the time of departure crept closer. The Weasleys had yet to make their appearance.

"Do you remember us being this late Hermione?" Harry asked, getting a bit worried.

"We were late every year except third." Hermione answered. "And even then we weren't exactly early despite the ministry providing the transport."

"Guys, look!" Neville interrupted.

Neville was pointing towards one of the hearths installed for floo travel rather than the barrier to King's Cross. Younger Neville had just appeared there, Augusta Longbottom following him out of the hearth soon after.

"You really do look like you're doing well mate." Harry commented.

Neville just nodded mutely.

The young Neville had an air of self assurance that the Neville Harry was familiar with had never had. He didn't have the baby fat that Neville had still carried in their fourth year either. There was a good deal of pointing going on at the platform, but it didn't seem to affect the boy at all. He calmly hugged his grandmother and made his way to the train, waving to a younger Dean before getting on.

With less than two minutes to go, a familiar ginger finally emerged from the barrier. Ron was the first one through, with Ginny and the twins right behind him and Molly bringing up the rear.

"Hurry up, get on the train." The harried looking woman said, kissing each of her children as the whistle for departure sounded.

"You all have a good time, work hard, and behave, you hear?" She called after them as they trooped onto the train.

As the train started moving, they could hear one of the twins answering her.

"We'll try to keep the little ones in line for you mom!" Fred or George shouted.

"Although you know what a handful they can be, especially Ron!" The other twin added.

"Oi!" Was the last they heard before the door clicked shut and the train pulled out of the station.

Harry had smiled at hearing the familiar banter, but he now wore a worried frown.

A similar look had overtaken Hermione's face

"Looks like we didn't stay with them then." She said.

"Yeah." Harry agreed.

They didn't get much time to think on it though, as the door to their carriage slid open.

* * *

"You lot seem awfully big for a bunch of firsties." One of the twins said as he started to direct his trunk into the luggage rack.

"Right you are George." Fred said. "Dumbledore is starting to really ramp up this exchange thing methinks."

"Parlez you English? Espanyolo?" George asked as he plopped down next to Neville.

He pointed at Lee Jordan, who had followed the twins in, Fred and then himself in turn and spoke again, exaggeratedly slow.

"Lee. Fred. George."

Both of the twins then pointed at Hermione at the same time and adopted identical questioning expressions.

Hermione smiled. "We're English actually."

"I knew you couldn't possibly be exchange students the moment Fred said he'd been thinking." Lee said, having sat down on the end of the bench Harry and Hermione sat on.

He extended his hand towards Hermione, and they all shook.

"We've actually come over from Wimbleton to take our Newts here. They don't offer classes beyond O.W.L. level there." Neville said. "I'm Neville Sandler."

"Harry White."

"Jean Daniels."

"Cool." Fred said. "We could use some more Brits at Hogwarts these days. We're in danger of getting outnumbered."

Lee laughed. "Yeah, the place just isn't the same with a grand total of three exchange students running around."

The twins nodded seriously. The fact that they kept nodding for several seconds, deliberately out of sync, made it clear they were joking.

The trio meanwhile looked at each other in surprise.

"Hogwarts has an exchange program?" Harry asked.

"Yup. Started in our second year." George replied. He folded his hands in front of his face and spoke in a passable imitation of Dumbledore.

"In coordination with the the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Hogwarts has decided to establish an exchange program. If you find yourself interested in going on exchange to a foreign school for a term, or even a year, please contact your head of house for more information. For now, please welcome Hogwarts' first guest of the program; miss I-hate-fun!"

Lee leaned in to the trio conspiratorially and said from behind his hand. "They hate her because she snitched on them."

"We were just trying to be welcoming!" Fred exclaimed. "How could we possibly have known that Americans dislike being unable to produce anything but bird noises for half an hour?"

"I don't think that's limited to Americans." Lee responded with a grin.

"True." George nodded. "Filch didn't seem to like it much either. We thought that was just him hating everything on principle though. Anyway, enough of that. What's Wimbleton like? I think I've heard of it once but we've never actually met anyone that's gone there."

"It was, uhm…" Harry stalled. "It was alright I guess. Not as good as Hogwarts I'm sure. I've heard you have a quidditch competition every year! Wimbleton is way too small for that. We don't even have a pitch. I had to make do with the occasional pick up game on the grounds.

"You poor child!" Fred exclaimed.

"How did you survive there for 5 years!" George added. "We wouldn't have made it past the first week!"

The twins hugged each other, pretending to cry at the thought of no quidditch and consoling one another.

"These two are the beaters for Gryffindor, our house." Lee said. "I don't play myself, but I'm the stadium announcer."

"Cool." Harry said. "I'll finally have someone to play with. These two don't like it."

"I like quidditch just fine." Neville cut in. "I'm just no good on a broom."

Lee nodded. "I feel ya. I can fly in a straight line just fine, but people chucking or hitting things at ya is where I check out. What position do you play Harry?"

"Seeker."

The twins perked up at that.

"Do you think you'll end up in Gryffindor? Our seeker is actually a better chaser than she is a seeker." Fred said.

"She's alright," George continued "but we'll need all the help we can get if we're going to defend our title now that Wood's graduated. He was our keeper and captain, and the main reason we managed to win the cup last year if we're completely honest."

"Well, obviously I don't know where I'll end up, but I'll hope for Gryffindor then. It probably won't be Ravenclaw at least. That sounds much more like H- Jean here." Harry said, pretending to cough at the end.

Attention shifted to Hermione, but before anyone could say anything, the door opened again.

"Finally! I must've checked half the carriages on this blasted train."

"Language Gin." Fred tutted.

"What mustn't these good people think of you? Or us by association? But did you consider that? No, of course you didn't. I swear, you're so selfabsorbed sometimes!" George said.

Fred nodded seriously. "I think she gets it from Perce, brother mine. Why she'd follow his example over ours I'll never know."

"Shut up and listen." Ginny said. "This is bigger than us."

She paused for effect and then noticed the unfamiliar faces.

"Oh hi, I'm Ginny."

They introduced themselves.

"Well hurry up then Gin! What's the scoop?" Fred prompted.

Ginny smirked. "Ron's got an admirer. Me and Demelza were sitting with the 'Claws, and Robin said she thought he was, I quote, 'pretty nice'."

"Ah, young love. 'Tis a beautiful thing." Fred said, swooning.

"He's a Weasley man. It was always a matter of time before the birds would flock to him." George nodded, buffing his nails on his robe.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Sure. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you guys knew. I know how invested you are in matchmaking."

She gave them a pointed look and leaned closer. "Use this opportunity to get those urges off your chest in a more, shall we say, productive way."

The twins winced.

"Oh, and the trolley is here. Bye."

* * *

Hagrid hadn't changed a bit, his call for first years as rumbly and good-natured as ever.

"Uhm, are we supposed to go with the first years?" Hermione asked.

The twins and Lee all shrugged.

"Hey Hagrid!" George shouted. "Are transfer students supposed to go with you?"

"Err, yes. Minerva told me to expect three sixth years. That's you lot?" He replied, addressing the question to Hermione.

"Yes sir." Hermione answered with a smile.

"No need ter sir me. Please call me Hagrid, that's me name after all."

Hagrid took up his call for the first years again, so the trio said their goodbyes to Lee and the twins.

They drew some weird looks from the gathered first years, but none approached them, which they were just fine with.

"I haven't spotted us." Harry whispered to Hermione.

"Me neither." She replied. "Maybe we got out before us?"

"At least it points towards the two of you being together." Neville said. "I wouldn't worry until I spotted one of you on your own, that's when you know something's gone wrong."

"Thanks Neville, that's nice of you to say." Hermione said with a soft smile.

Harry just bumped Neville's shoulder.

"Come along then everyone." Hagrid boomed as he started making his way towards the lake.

Soon they were gliding across the lake, being waved on by the giant squid. They all got out without incident and were then handed into the care of professor McGonagall, who gave the same speech as she'd done their first year. The ghosts floated by again as well, confirming Hermione's previously voiced suspicion that they did so every year.

When the doors opened again, their eyes flew towards the Gryffindor table. The twins tried to outdo each other waving, bouncing in their seats, and Lee nodded at them, but there was no trace of a younger Harry, nor a younger Hermione.

They started to check the other tables, but they hadn't found themselves yet when Dumbledore stood up and they had to turn around.

"Welcome one and all, to a new year at Hogwarts. This will be something of a special year, hopefully to be remembered fondly by all of you. I have a few announcements to make on that account, but it might take a while to get to all of it, and I'm sure you're all as eager to dig into your dinners as I am. As such, I'll save those announcements for when we're all happily digesting our desserts."

A low buzz sprung up as students began to speculate about the mysterious announcement while Dumbledore paused to take a sip from his goblet. He cleared his throat audibly to quiet down the students and then continued his speech.

"As always, an updated list of what items have been labeled contraband can be found spelled to the door of mr. Filch's office and the Forbidden Forest remains forbidden. As has also, to my regret, become part of the yearly ritual, I find myself needing to introduce a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. This year, we're very lucky to have found the ministry willing to temporarily part with one of its best aurors. Please welcome Senior Auror James Potter."

Harry's head snapped to the end of the teachers' table, where his father casually raised his hand in acknowledgement of the polite applause from the student body and his new colleagues.

He looked exactly like his image had in the Mirror of Erised, except more tanned and with a few more lines in his face. But he was actually here this time. In the flesh.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away.

Dumbledore spoke again, and then the sorting began, but Harry didn't notice any of it. It wasn't until Neville grabbed his arm, breath stocked in surprise, that Harry came to himself again. Turning away from teachers' table, he saw Hermione shakily put the hat down and make her way to her house table.

Except she wasn't moving towards the Gryffindor table. It was the Ravenclaws that were applauding her, and the Ravenclaw table Hermione was dazedly walking towards. She looked back at them questioningly, shrugged as if to say she didn't know what'd happened either and turned towards her new housemates.

* * *

"Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin." Neville muttered under his breath. "I'll never get into Ravenclaw. What if we all end up in different houses and don't share classes? I'll never be able to deal with Newt classes on my own on top of everything else!"

"I'm sure we'll be in the same house Nev." Harry reassured him. "We've always known Hermione is a Ravenclaw with a Gryffindor heart. Besides, Newt elective classes are small enough that they combine all the students and Runes and Arithmancy aren't the most popular choices in the first place."

Harry thought he was doing an okay job helping Neville calm down, but it wasn't long before 'Neville Sandler' was called and the panicked look in his eyes came rushing back.

Harry held his breath when Neville sat down and put the Sorting Hat on.

And waited.

In the end, Harry needed to start breathing again long before the Hat made its decision known. Minutes passed and the students began to get tired of waiting, turning to talk to each other.

Finally, after close to 4 minutes (Harry had started counting as he'd been holding his breath), the Hat righted itself and said:

"Hufflepuff!"

Neville gave Harry a vacant shrug as he put the hat down and made his way to the table populated by the cheering badgers.

Jamie Swift and Rob Travers were sorted into Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively, and then it was Harry's turn.

He picked up the hat a touch warily, sat down, and gingerly put it on.

"Hmmm, tricky. You'd do well in most houses. Not Ravenclaw though."

"I've already been sorted once, if that makes any difference."

"Yes, I noticed. Very annoying. I'll rule out Gryffindor for that reason alone. Can't have some other hat sorting my students."

Harry was decidedly nonplussed.

"It wasn't another hat, it was you."

"I think I'd remember that, kid! I've been sorting children into houses for thousands of years and I remember every single one of them. Just because I can't reveal their thoughts doesn't mean I don't remember, so don't try telling me otherwise."

"I'm not saying you've forgotten, I'm saying-"

"Just be silent and let me do my bloody job. Shame on you for trying to make me think I'm getting too old for this. I'm a hat! I only get better with time! You're doing a shite job of tricking me, which by the way tells me all need to know."

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted out loud.

Harry stood up feeling both frustrated and amused. He put the hat back on the stool and made his way over to Neville, accepting the congratulations of his new housemates as he sat down.

"I told you we'd be in the same house." Harry smiled.

Neville returned his smile uncertainly.

"Was the hat as weird to you as it was too me?" He asked softly.

"It was pretty weird, yeah. It actually reminded me of Alistair a bit."

Neville blushed and pulled on his earlobe. "That's… Not the same kind of strange."

"What did it say to you then?" Harry asked.

"It took minutes just for it to stop laughing. When it finally did, it just said I'd make a crappy Slytherin and that I should be thankful for its decision before announcing me a Hufflepuff."

"Huh. That really is weird."

By then the last first year had been sorted. Dumbledore raised his glass in a toast, and the feast appeared.

Harry and Neville sat somewhat isolated because of the first years sitting between them and the rest of their new house. That was alright with them though, as most of their focus was on communicating with Hermione at the table next to theirs through the medium of hand gestures and facial expressions while they ate.

Hufflepuff being the house that it is, a senior housemate soon made his way over to them. Harry had to take a moment to compose himself once again when he heard Cedric's voice over his shoulder, asking them to join the other Newt students, but he shook it off quickly. If his handshake was a bit firmer than normal, well that was nobody's business.

The two of them followed Cedric up the table and introduced themselves to the sixth and seventh years over dessert. The 'Puffs were very curious about Wimbleton. Not even the mention of quidditch derailed their questioning for long, so Harry was relieved to see Dumbledore get up once again.

"Now that we've all had our fill of a most excellent feast, if I may say so myself, the time for the big announcement has come. We've decided to cancel the inter-house quidditch cup this year."

A storm of protest burst loose.

Harry, of course already in the know about the tournament, could see just how much Dumbledore enjoyed the effect his words had had. The headmaster wore a big smile under his beard and his eyes twinkled merrily.

After a minute or so, Dumbledore raised a hand and patiently waited for silence.

"Instead of the regular quidditch tournament, Hogwarts will be participating in the Triwizard Tournament this year. Some of you may have heard of it, but this iteration will be decidedly different from those in the past. The organisers have worked very hard to modernise the tournament in order to make it an exciting experience for participants and audience alike. Please welcome the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Beatrice Pye, to explain the event in full."

A woman with wild curly hair and dark skin emerged from the room Harry'd been sent to when the Goblet selected the champions 2 years ago. She walked up to the Dumbledore, who backed away to his seat with a bow, unrolled a parchment from inside her sleeve, and began to speak. She did not glance at the parchment once.

"Thank you for that rousing introduction headmaster.

Traditionally, the Triwizard Tournament was a competition between the chosen champions of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. Durmstrang decided against joining this new version of the tournament though, so instead we've found a third participant in Kartana Academy of Magic*, a well respected school of magic located in the Mediterranean Sea.

In addition to the Tournament of Champions and the traditional Yule Ball, an inter-school quidditch tournament will be held, as well as duelling tournaments in both singles and trios formats. We've also organised guest lectures by experts in varying fields of magic at all three participating schools once a month."

She paused for a quick sip of water from the goblet of water that appeared in the air as she reached out.

"The Tournament of Champions consists of three tasks of considerable difficulty, testing the complete range of the participants' skills. The details of the tasks will remain a secret until the start of the task. Each participating school will host a single task, with Hogwarts hosting the first, Beauxbatons the second and Kartana the third. Only students that are of age as of today will be allowed to enter this competition. In order to enter the Tournament of Champions, please write your name and school on a piece of parchment and deposit it in the Goblet of Fire. The Goblet will reside in Kartana this week, move to Beauxbatons the next, and will arrive here 14 days from now. On the 22nd of September, all prospective candidates will gather here in the great hall to witness the selection of the champions.

The Yule Ball will be held on the 24th of December, as is traditional, at Beauxbatons. Everyone is welcome to attend, but first through third years will be escorted back to Hogwarts at 10:30pm.

The quidditch competition will be played over six matches. Each team plays two home matches, one against each school, and one away match at each school as well. We will be using professional rosters. This means there are 11 slots on a team, allowing for a substitute per position. Tryouts will be announced this week by your school's flying instructor.

Duellists entering the tournament will be competing segregated by years. Fourth year students will only face fourth year students, first years will face first years. The tournament will be played in knock-out style, and draws are completely randomised within the year bracket. That makes this tournament the only one where students could come to compete with students from their own school as well as students from the foreign schools. Sign ups will remain open until the end of the month. Please contact your head of house to sign up.

Finally, the guest lectures will be open to all, with the first one to be held in October. Some speakers have indicated they'll hold more than one lecture, so as to be able to cater to all levels of experience."

The overload of information resulted in a stunned silence when mrs Pye stopped speaking and rolled up her unused parchment again.

"I realise it's a lot of information to take in," she smiled, making her look a lot less imposing all of a sudden "so flyers with information about all of the events to come have been spread throughout to castle to peruse at your leisure. I thank you all for listening and hope you'll enjoy what the year will bring."

A hesitant applause started, but it quickly picked up as the information was processed and students became more enthusiastic.

Mrs Pye nodded in thanks and made her way back to the small room in the back of the hall accompanied by professor Dumbledore.

It was left to professor McGonagall to end the feast and send the students to bed.

Harry and Neville met up with Hermione on their way out.

"Well, that was different." She said.

They nodded.

 **AN: Sorry for the huge infodump at the end, but I couldn't see any way around it. Hopefully the promise of new tasks, duelling, quidditch and a new school will at least be exciting to you!**


End file.
